


Remembrance Day

by I_Gave_You_Fair_Warning



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Abandonment, Benevolent Haunted Jedi Temple, Gen, Haunted Houses, Heavy Angst, Horror, Hurt No Comfort, Mild Blood, Sad Ending, still creepy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-22
Updated: 2021-01-22
Packaged: 2021-03-14 04:48:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,664
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28914882
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/I_Gave_You_Fair_Warning/pseuds/I_Gave_You_Fair_Warning
Summary: The dead always linger in the Jedi Temple, but on one day a year they are especially present.Obi-Wan just really wants to see Qui-Gon.
Relationships: Qui-Gon Jinn & Obi-Wan Kenobi
Comments: 17
Kudos: 93





	Remembrance Day

**Author's Note:**

> Courtesy Warning for Qui-Gon Fans: ... He... doesn't look good in this story. Probably not an enjoyable story for Qui-Gon stans.

Anakin had been very creeped out when Obi-Wan had tried to speak to him of the Day of Rememberance, back in the Padawan Days.

The Padawan Days that were thankfully behind them, never,  _ever_ to be revisited. Ever.

Obi-Wan had survived Anakin's teenage years, and now that he was in his twenties, maybe he would... even out a bit. Find his bearings, stop screaming at Obi-Wan so much. It was rather nice, to just...  _be_ together, without Anakin's incessant need to rip apart every attempt Obi-Wan made to connect with him.

But even though they  _had_ been finding a connection, at least, Obi-Wan  _thought_ so, hoped so...

This was not something Anakin would be with him in doing.

Perhaps that was alright.

If this year was the year Qui-Gon would appear...

Obi-Wan rather hoped....

But that was selfish, since Anakin had loved him too.

Fortunately, Obi-Wan would not have to contend with such pettiness of soul within himself, as Anakin would probably stay away from the Jedi Temple all day, and  _certainly_ through the night.

* * *

The Jedi Temple was always haunted.

Always.

The  _benevolence_ of it was what separated it from Sith Temples, but it was certainly just as alive.

It also recognized that the Son of Tatooine was scared spitless whenever that fact made itself too known, and obligingly kept its more...  _haunting_ behaviors out of his view.

But Obi-Wan had  _grown up_ there. He was used to whispers of children laughing in empty halls, catching a glimpse of someone standing behind you in a mirror who was not physically there, of odd writing in steam on windows, and the occasional door where there hadn't been one before.

It was  _home._

The ethereal watcher, there to grant courage as you stepped into a test you didn't think you could pass. Giggles when grief seemed to have consumed the entire universe with a dread that there might never be relief again. A little heart in the steam on the glass of the refresher mirror. A surprise, but a reminder that no Jedi,  _certainly_ no Jedi in a Temple, was ever alone.

There was one night a year when the Temple  _took over,_ though. Sleep might well be a thing of myth on that night, and while none of it was ever malevolent, it  _certainly_ was not conducive to rest.

There was a special garden, planted with flora of an assisting nature, in patterns likewise assisting, with lights turned low and only those calm of spirit allowed in, lest it disturb the flow...

A place to meet with those gone before.

As Obi-Wan readied himself to journey there, late in the evening of the Day, he found that earnest knot of dread and anticipation building in his gut. He donned his most formal wear, and when he went to work on his hair, he made sure to let the sink run for a moment before sticking his fingers beneath it.

The gift of blood from the dead to the living— something the living still needed and the dead did not— was thoughtful, but also unhelpful, a thing the dead seemed swift to forget.

This time the sink spat out water, and that  _was_ useful for hair preparation.

He stared into the mirror, noted he looked drawn and pale.

Through the years, he'd been afraid of Qui-Gon appearing, afraid of him knowing just how badly Obi-Wan had stumbled through the years since his death.

_I'm still alive, and Anakin is still alive._

_That's about it._

No soaring achievements, no wonderful accomplishments. Nothing.... spectacular.

And Anakin would probably say he hadn't even been adequate, though he had tried... so  _hard..._

Then again, if someone ended up hurt, did trying truly  _mean_ anything?

After all, Yoda—

Scribbles in blood on the wall caused movement that caught the corner of his eye, turning his head to look.

_There is no try refers to the fact that if you attempt something half-heartedly, without the_ intention  _of succeeding, you will of course fail. You sabotage_ yourself  _by giving a half-hearted, “I guess I'll try. But it won't work.” If you_ mean  _to succeed, you may surprise yourself_ by  _succeeding. The fact that you raised Anakin to the best of your abilities_ does  _matter, whether Anakin sees it or not._

_You can only give what you have inside_ to  _give._

The words ran out of wall, and finished on the top of the mirror.  _Your struggles in raising Anakin have nothing to do with the aphorism, because you_ intended  _to raise him to the best of your abilities, and you did._

“You're too talkative for Qui-Gon,” Obi-Wan murmured.

They never identified themselves, more's the pity.

It had been speculated that Legacy lines often connected Echoes with the living. Perhaps this was Yoda's master, or one of Yoda's myriad apprentices, who'd died of old age hundreds of years before the last one, Dooku, was born.

“Will he meet with me this year?” Obi-Wan asked, knowing better than to think he would receive a response.

Still. As he walked through his kitchenette to reach the front door, he checked the front of the conservator, for the letter-mags that were stuck to the front.

They  _had_ been reorganized, but only to spell his name backwards.

He scrunched his nose and swept out the door.

Only to have it shut twice behind him.

Oh, Force, it was going to be a long evening.

* * *

Obi-Wan walked the white-pebble path in the garden, and there was only enough light to barely see by, making the walkway seem to almost glow.

“I seek Qui-Gon,” he murmured, “but honestly, at this point, I might accept anybody.”

_“So sad, Jedi Knight,”_ an unidentifiable whisper mourned beside him.

“Not more than most,” he dismissed. “Are you here for someone?”

But it was gone.

The attention-span of the dead was nearly as pathetic as their memory of what  _privacy_ was supposed to mean.

There had been that one alarming point when he was twenty-three and spending some quality time with a fellow padawan _,_ and while he lay on his bed grinning after, he'd seen his datapad's screen had been fritzed, saying in jagged words, “Congratulations!”

He'd been very cautious what he did on  _this_ day ever since.

Eventually he stopped wandering and sat on one of the benches.

This would be as it had been every year.

He would wait until the cold seeped into his core and the bones of his toes  _hurt_ from it.... 

And Qui-Gon would not come.

Obi-Wan sank his hands deep into the sleeves of his robe and bowed his head.

_You'd think, after all these years, the hope would be less. That it would..._

_Hurt..._

_Less._

There was no way of knowing if Qui-Gon  _could not_ come, or if he  _chose_ not to.

Some Jedi who died away from the Temple never found their way back, instead becoming fully one with the Force. Others  _did_ seem to wander home, but they could never  _explain_ themselves, the how or why.

That attention span problem again.

_Qui-Gon was always so in tune with the Living Force, with its will... I imagine he was glad to become one with the Cosmic at last._

Unless, stubborn bastard that he'd been, he'd refused to  _leave_ the Living Force and went off to explore the universe first, before resting.

Maybe he was on Scariff now, enjoying the beaches. Or the crystals of Christophsis. Or—

“He still hasn't come?”

Obi-Wan looked to the empty space on the bench, found a recently-dead friend sitting there. “Reeft.”

“Yeah...” he looked a bit glum. “Not who you were hoping to see, I know.”

“I've missed you.” Wanting Qui-Gon did not lessen the truth of it.

“Well... you know how it is. Time is funny here. Maybe he hasn't figured out time has passed. Is still taking joyrides on the backs of hawkbats.”

Obi-Wan smiled faintly. “I'm sure that's it.”

_Or he is so ashamed of me that he could not possibly hide it, and in kindness, has stayed away entirely._

That was far more likely.

On Mortis he had only spoken of Anakin, and vanished the moment Obi-Wan tried to ask him of anything else.

_Perhaps it's for Anakin that he's lingered. To see him grow up._

Tears stung Obi-Wan's eyes.

_I miss you, master._

His comlink chimed, startling him. Anakin.

Obi-Wan didn't want to answer, but perhaps something was wrong and Anakin needed him. He answered.

"Obi-Wan! You'll never guess what! I saw Qui-Gon, he was just here!"

Obi-Wan's lips moved, but he couldn't force a single sound out. Fortunately it didn't matter.

"He said he's proud of me, that I'm everything he thought I would be! It feels like this weight is just gone. You were right, Obi-Wan, this day isn't a terrible day."

Obi-Wan forced a smile, felt grimly fragile.

Then the tiny blue Anakin was gone, and Obi-Wan found himself alone. For a long moment he just held the comlink, staring at nothing, waiting.

Surely if Qui-Gon went there first, he'd come here next.

Hours dragged past until he finally fell asleep sitting up on that bench, numb with cold.

It was Yoda who woke him with a gentle hand, as the first rays of dawn touched the temple.

From the sad, resigned look in Yoda's eyes, he had been waiting for Qui-Gon too.

_He didn't come to see you either. I suppose some of us don't matter anymore. Though I'm not sure I ever did._

Obi-Wan's heart gave a pang that hurt so bad he couldn't breathe.

He nodded to Yoda, who left the garden in slow, mournful silence. Once the area was deserted, Obi-Wan murmured, "Master Jinn, perhaps I never meant anything to you. Still, in spite of it all, you meant everything to me." He stood, formally bowed, and whispered, "Thank you for your teachings. Perhaps someday, if I ever make you proud, come to see me."

With head hung and tears slipping down his cheeks, Obi-Wan Kenobi walked away.


End file.
